Molly
by ropowo
Summary: She smiles a little, tenses her cheeks to make herself blush, in order to convince the detective of her attraction. In reality, her smile was about the fact that he didn't know half her life story. He didn't suspect a thing. In his eyes, she was just a normal girl, who was mesmerised by his brilliant mind. In reality, she was plotting to kill him.


This is a random idea I came up with. I always thought Molly was an interesting character, therefore have built this story based on that. The first chapter is quite short because it is a trial to see if people like it. In about a week, I will continue. It is mainly Sherlock with slight doctor who references.

I do not own Sherlock or Doctor Who. If I did, they'd have crossed over on TV by now.

On 27th April 1985, Molly Hooper was born to Marina and Jeremy Hooper. She lived happily as an only child with all the other children on her road. She achieved her dream of becoming a pathologists, after many years of university studies, and began to work at St Barts in the year 2006. This lead to her meeting Sherlock, becoming infatuated, bla bla bla, meeting…John, Mary and of course, Tom. This is pretty much her life story.

At least, that is what she convinces herself.

Admittedly not all of it is a lie. She is an only child. And working at St Barts did lead her to Sherlock, but otherwise, it's just a fake back story.

When she met Sherlock Holmes, she was aware of his deduction skills, and feared he would be able to figure out her secret. Luckily, he's not as clever as he thinks…:

8 years earlier

Molly Hooper was busy analysing a sample of human tissue for traces of heroin, suggesting if the victim was a frequent user of drugs and whether the death was self-caused or not, when suddenly, the doors to the laboratory opened.

"Well? Was there heroin there? No? I knew it, I said that she could not have been a drug user if her wedding ring was stuck, suggesting she's never taken it off, and she was in a happy relationship. Also, her kids are, relatively normal so…" Molly whipped her head around to observe the figures in the room. She knew Greg Lestrade, he visited the morgue to drop of new 'specimen', giving her the job to find out the cause of death, hence whether it needed to be investigated by the police. The other figure, the one who had spoken, she didn't know. She knew it was Sherlock Holmes, of course, but had never 'officially' met him. Of course she recognised his dark curly hair, dark stance, his coat that suggested that he had to keep the power of the room. Her blood ran cold, because she knew _it was him._

She knew he was smart, and wouldn't just fall into her arms, therefore she had to be able to convince him that she was well…an idiot. In his eyes at least. It was easy to convince him that she had some kind of infatuation towards him, stammering, avoiding eye contact; piece of cake. So that's how she began her first conversation with him.

"S-sorry? Who are you?" _Can't let him know you know who he is._

"Sherlock Holmes. You must be the pathologist. How long ago did she die?" She knew he would be able to deduce parts of her. It was just a matter of how much.

"Sorry, who?"

"Your mother. She's dead isn't she? How long ago did she die?" It still stung, but at least it didn't reveal too much.

"Y-yes she is. And she died through childbirth. Sorry, can you tell me how_"

"Emerald necklace around your neck. Clearly it's a gift of some kind. Boyfriend? No. If you had a boyfriend you would make a bit more effort with your hair and make-up. Friend? No. It too expensive than the average gift from somebody of your kind of wealth, assuming they are from your kind of wealth, which they are. Ring on your finger, 30 dollars on Ebay, second hand. So back to the necklace, the wire looks damaged, suggesting it is old and has been handled a lot. See your doing it right now." Molly looked down and saw that, she was indeed handling her necklace. She missed her mother, greatly.

"Therefore the necklace has sentimental value. From a live family member it would just be stored away, maybe worn on special occasions, but a dead one? You'd wear it to remember them. How do I know it's your mother? While both your parents are dead a necklace would be more likely used to remember a female. The wristband on your right is used to remember a concert you went to wish your Dad, judging by the creases it's probably about 15 years old. And how do I know you're an only child? Easy. The look in your eyes"

"The look in your eyes? Come on Sherlock! I told you!" Greg points out. Sherlock sighed.

"Yes, you did. But the pathologist also lacks wrinkles on her face, suggesting few arguments growing up." Molly sighed. She knew he wouldn't bother learning her name, but she told him anyway.

"Molly. M-My name's Molly Hooper. It's really nice to meet you." She smiles a little, tenses her cheeks to make herself blush, in order to convince the detective of her attraction. In reality, her smile was about the fact that he didn't know half her life story. He didn't suspect a thing. In his eyes, she was just a normal girl, who was mesmerised by his brilliant mind.

In reality, she was plotting to kill him.


End file.
